


Return and loss

by wefewwehappyfew



Series: Alternate Wars of the Roses [2]
Category: 15th Century CE RPF
Genre: (yeah sorry spoilers), An Au where Edward of Lancaster survives Tewkesbury, But everything is sad too, Gen, Tw for death of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 10:12:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wefewwehappyfew/pseuds/wefewwehappyfew
Summary: (AU where Edward of Lancaster survives Tewkesbury) The King and Queen of England during the last moments of their son.





	Return and loss

Edward had learnt, with age and experience, that he should never be too cheerful in victories nor too sad in losses. Things came how they came and even if his destiny was to recover the throne his father lost, it did not do well to dwell in excess over anything.

(Not even his parents. In Anne and their son he had found the peace he had thought long lost. He at least had that.)

_But oh, how wrong was he going to be proved that day._

His little Henry was growing up quickly, and hopefully with none of the ailments of the mind that plagued his grandfather until his last days. He was a cheerful boy, that would grow into a good king that would rule an England in peace.

They were training, and for some reason, Henry was exerting himself too much. So much Edward himself had to stop and follow his son as he threw the sword away and went, with an insecure pace, towards the servants.

”Water. Bring me cold water.” he said before collapsing.

_No. Oh Lord, no. He is only eleven.Not him._

“Find the physician and bring him to my son’s rooms. NOW” _  
_

He ran. He ran as fast as he could, reaching the rooms almost breathless, with his son in his arms.

With the help of another servant, he managed to prepare the prince for the arrival of the physician, who came promptly and told him to leave the room. 

And there he was. He, the true King of England, waiting helpless in a corridor in a castle in Calais.

_No. No. He will survive this. The Lancastrian dinasty will continue to rule England for the centuries to come. It is my duty to regain that throne for him. It is his duty to rule after me._

And there he saw her.

Anne, alone. She had heard the news (by this moment, the entire castle had heard them and no doubt they would soon travel to the islands, to the great pleasure of those  York usurpers.), and of course she had to be there.

But when the news came, they were not as good as they hoped.

“Your Majesties, chances are slim that the Prince shall survive this night.”

What hurt Edward most at that moment was not the news, but the way Anne looked at him, as if she were going to break.

_I will lose her if our son dies. I cannot lose them both._

Taking her hand, he then looked at the physician.

“But if he does, will there be hope for him?”

_Will there be hope for all us?_

“The longer he is kept alive, the more chances there will be.”

“Then so be it.” He said, as he entered the room, followed by Anne.

They sent away all servants and stayed by the side of their son all night, tending to him, speaking to him, telling him stories even if he couldn’t find the strength within himself to reply.

But he was surviving. He was surviving and everything would be fine.

Dawn was approaching.

And Henry looked at his father, shaking because of the fever. 

“Father. Father, I’m sorry…” Tears were streaming down his cheeks. 

_No._

He leant forward, taking his son’s hand. 

“My son.” he said, as calm and reassuring as he could. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything.” 

“But I… I wanted to be like… like you.” he managed to say, his gaze getting more lost as he spoke.

_No. No._

“You are Henry. You are our son. And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

“But I am… I am losing this battle.”

Now it was Anne who spoke, tears welling up her eyes.

“Henry, my sweet boy. We are here, we will help you.”

She pressed a kiss to his brow and then looked at Edward with the knowledge of what was about to happen.

_No. No._ _No._

“Father… Mother…”

Edward spoke, before words formed a knot on his throat.

“We are here, my son.” he pressed another kiss to his son’s brow, burning with heat. “We are here and we are proud of you.”

And Henry, who would later be known in History as Henry of Calais, smiled before he exhaled his last breath.

That was the last thing of that day that Edward himself remembered clearly.

The suffering that came later… _That was another matter._

**Author's Note:**

> \- Subpar drabble, I know. But I felt the mighty need to torture myself some more with feels.
> 
> \- Henry of Calais is this AU’s Edward of Middleham obviously. Named after his grandfather, and great-grandfather and because he was born and died in Calais (in this AU a Lancastrian stronghold) he got to live one year more than his historical counterpart.
> 
> \- I really need to write something fluffy in this au gdi.
> 
> \- This obviously takes place before "The King and his heir"


End file.
